


And then you whisper in my ear (I know what you're doing here)

by HawthorneWhisperer



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 07:57:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10737444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HawthorneWhisperer/pseuds/HawthorneWhisperer
Summary: Clarke needs a date and Bellamy doesn't really have an excuse to say no.





	And then you whisper in my ear (I know what you're doing here)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/gifts).



> Happy Borthday, dearest chash.

_ Clarke Griffin _

_ 7:43pm _

_ I have to go to this fundraiser thing next week and I’ll pay you $100 to come with me _ .

 

Bellamy stared at his phone and hit pause on the new episode of  _ Harlots _ .  He started typing out  _ who is this _ but before he could hit send another text buzzed through.

 

_ Clarke Griffin _

_ 7:43pm _

_ And don’t you dare pretend not to have my number you made me give it to you last week when I took Octavia home from the bar. _

 

Bellamy’s frown deepened.  His relationship with Clarke could probably be best described as “constant, low level hostility broken up by the odd moment of teamwork,” which made him an odd choice to say the least to be a fill-in date.

 

_ Bellamy Blake _

_ 7:44pm _

_ Why? _

 

_ Clarke Griffin _

_ 7:44pm _

_ Because when I went last year I might have made a bit of a fool of myself because I’d just ended things with Lexa. _

 

_ Bellamy Blake _

_ 7:44pm _

_ But why me?  I’m sure Raven would go with you. _

 

_ Clarke Griffin _

_ 7:44pm _

_ She’s got a big scary meeting with her committee the next morning. _

 

_ Clarke Griffin _

_ 7:44pm _

_ And Monty’s bad in crowds, Miller’s somehow worse, Octavia and Lincoln BOTH have to work nights next week, Niylah’s out of town,  Wells lives 400 miles away, Murphy’s Murphy, and you couldn’t pay me to take Jasper to a fancy event with unlimited booze. _

 

_ Clarke Griffin _

_ 7:44pm _

_ So that leaves you.  $150, final offer. _

 

_ Bellamy Blake _

_ 7:45pm _

_ What about Roan? _

 

Bellamy had met Roan once and instantly disliked the man.  But Clarke seemed to like him, a fact that just made Bellamy dislike him even more.

 

_ Clarke Griffin _

_ 7:45pm _

_ Lol no.  I’m trying to give off an “I have my life together now” vibe, not “I’m dating the closest thing I have to a brother.” _

 

_ Clarke Griffin _

_ 7:45pm _

_ So are you in? _

 

_ Bellamy Blake _

_ 7:45 _

_ What does it entail?  And when is it?  I might have a committee meeting the next day too. _

 

_ Clarke Griffin _

_ 7:45pm _

_ Nice try.  Raven said you met with your advisor yesterday. _

 

_ Clarke Griffin _

_ 7:45pm _

_ It’s next week Thursday at the Museum of Natural History.  8pm.  There will be dinner and drinks.  I’ll pick you up and do all the talking; you just have to wear a suit, hold my hand for two hours, and not yell at too many old rich men. _

 

_ Bellamy Blake _

_ 7:45pm _

_ Define “too many.” _

 

_ Clarke Griffin _

_ 7:46pm _

_ More than five. _

 

_ Bellamy Blake _

_ 7:46pm _

_ Make it seven and you’ve got yourself a deal. _

 

_ Clarke Griffin _

_ 7:46pm _

_ I’ll pick you up at 8. _

 

As it turned out, “I’ll drive” from Clarke actually meant “I’ll send a car for you,” which was a weird experience for Bellamy.  He’d taken cabs before, but somehow it felt very different sliding into the back of a black car with tinted windows driven by a man who called him  _ sir _ .   _ I’m running late so I’m sending a car, meet you at the steps _ was all Clarke’s last text said, and Bellamy fiddled with his cufflinks and tie for the short ride to the museum.  He rarely dug his suit out of his closet more than once a year and he felt a little awkward and self-conscious as the driver pulled up and Bellamy climbed out.

Clarke was standing on the sidewalk, intermittently scanning the street between anxious glances at her phone, but when she looked up Bellamy almost swallowed his tongue.

Look, he knew Clarke was attractive.  He’d once drunkenly described her to Miller as  _ inconveniently hot _ , but that was just when she was out at the bars with them.  Like this— her hair swept up off her neck, in a blue dress with a plunging neckline that was just this side of scandalous— she was something else altogether.

Radiant, maybe.

Devastating?

Gorgeous, certainly.

Dangerous, for sure.

Whatever word his brain settled on, it still took him a second to find his voice.  Clarke’s neck broke out into a splotchy blush and she cleared her throat.  “Ready?” she asked, and extended her hand.  Bellamy took it and they started up the steps.  He hadn’t ever really touched her before aside from the occasional high five when they won at trivia, and maybe he wasn’t letting himself imagine what it was like to have her skin against his.  He fought the urge to run his thumb across her knuckles.  “We’re at my mom and stepdad’s table,” she explained, and Bellamy stopped with one foot above a concrete stair.

“Wait, what?” he asked and tugged her out of the stream of gala attendees.  “You didn’t say I had to lie to your  _ mom _ .”

“Relax, I told her you were just a friend,” Clarke said, and at that moment Bellamy realized they were still holding hands, but it felt weirder to let go than to hold on, so he kept her hand clasped in his palm.

Bellamy relented and they continued up the stairs.  A couple of people waved at Clarke, and one woman called  _ congratulations _ across the crowd.  That struck Bellamy as slightly odd but rich people were weird, after all.  Clarke tightened her grip on his hand and they walked into the museum entrance.

Bellamy had always loved the museum.  When he was younger it was because their school IDs had gotten him and Octavia in for free, which meant an entire day not in the sweltering heat or freezing cold of their shitty apartment.  Octavia had come to loathe it but to Bellamy it was a sanctuary and still when he was stuck on a chapter he would come down to walk around the halls to quiet his mind. Clarke flashed him a smile that he returned, and no sooner had they entered the main hall than three different couples darted over to talk to Clarke.  All three started with  _ congratulations _ , but Clarke always shifted the conversation away from what she was being congratulated on before he could ask.  If he was her boyfriend he should probably already know, he realized belatedly, and when Clarke managed to shake the last couple he raised his eyebrows at her.  “Should I be planning on pretending to be about to be a dad too, or are you going to tell me what all the congratulations are about?” he asked.

Clarke swiped two wine glasses from a passing waiter.  “It’s nothing; I got an award,” she said dismissively.

Bellamy clocked a man about their age heading directly for them and draped his arm casually across Clarke’s shoulders.  She slung her arm around his lower back just as the guy reached them.  “Hey Riley,” she said, and Bellamy felt absurdly pleased at the way the other man’s eyes narrowed a little when looking at him.  “This is Bellamy.”

With one arm around Clarke and the other holding a wine glass all he could do was tip his chin at Riley.  “Nice to meet you,” he said easily.

“How’s the internship?” Clarke asked, and Riley started prattling on about his work for some chemical manufacturer.  It was boring, but Clarke didn’t seem to like him all that much either.  Fortunately, someone approached the podium at the front of the hall and announced that it was time everyone found their seats.

“I haven’t fought anyone yet,” he whispered as they walked towards table twelve.  “Impressed?”

“That’s because Riley didn’t tell you he voted for Jill Stein just to  _ shake things up and send a message _ ,” Clarke replied out of the corner of her mouth.

Bellamy stopped and turned around.  “Hold on, I’m gonna go fight him real quick,” he said, and Clarke laughed and tugged his hand.

“After dinner and speeches,” she promised, and Bellamy let her tow him to their table with a friendly grin.

It was honestly much easier than he thought it would be, pretending to be Clarke’s date.  Or, well, he wasn’t really pretending, now that he thought about it— he sort of  _ was _ her date, and she hadn’t even called him her boyfriend to Riley.  It was implied, but really, it was just...a date.

A date with a person he used to dislike but was rapidly realizing he didn’t dislike, not in the slightest.

Clarke’s mother was kind and a little formal, but Bellamy found he liked her husband almost instantly.  The food was terrible but the drinks were free, and chatting with Clarke came so naturally it really didn’t feel like they were faking anything.  Up on the podium a few speakers came and went, droning on about fundraising goals met and the ones they hoped to achieve next year but Bellamy paid them little attention until Clarke’s face popped up on the screen behind it with the words  _ Volunteer of the Year _ underneath her.

Bellamy looked at her questioningly, intending to tease her, but then he noticed her hands. Underneath the table they were twisting her napkin nervously, and she was chewing on the inside of her cheek.  The emcee started in on a short biography of Clarke and then moved to listing her admittedly impressive record for volunteering.

Without stopping to think about it Bellamy reached over and tangled his fingers with hers, keeping her from shredding her napkin to pieces.  She shot him a nervous but grateful look and he summoned a smile in return, even though his heart felt like it was too big for his chest now, swelling with something like pride and tenderness.  

The emcee introduced her and Clarke let him brush a kiss to her cheek before she stood to roaring applause and walked the short distance to the podium.  Her speech was short and to the point, mostly about encouraging others to volunteer as well, and her voice never wavered. But their table was close to the front— quite on purpose, Bellamy realized— and he could see her neck turning blotchy just like it had when he arrived.  His heart swelled even more and he didn’t even care what that meant.

But then her speech was over, and she sank back into her chair with a decidedly relieved sigh.  “Congrats,” he said sincerely, and she smiled at him.

“Thanks.  I’m just glad that’s over,” she said, and the emcee returned to the podium to continue the program.  There were more awards to hand out— mostly for who raised the most money— and Clarke leaned over to whisper in his ear.  “I need a breather and the Egypt room is open,” she muttered.

Bellamy set his napkin on the table and they slipped out, nodding to the security guard standing near the doors to the next hall.  “This was always my favorite room,” he said when the doors swung shut, blocking out the noise from the gala.

He realized once again that they were holding hands even though they really, really didn’t need to, and his heart gave a painful thump.  But Clarke didn’t let go and so neither did he.  “I know,” she said, wandering past a case with gold and turquoise jewelry.  “Octavia told me.” Bellamy didn’t bother to ask why she was talking to Octavia about him, and Clarke took a deep, steadying breath.  “By the way, I’ll paypal you the money tonight,” she added.

“What money?”

“I said I’d pay you $150 to come to this with me,” she reminded him.

Bellamy shrugged.  “Keep it,” he said.  “This was fun.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No buts,” he interrupted and stopped walking.  He pulled her against him and Clarke looked down, that blush once more spreading across her skin.  “Or how about this: you pay for our first date.”  He dropped his voice a little and brought his hand to cup her cheek.

Clarke met his gaze and his throat closed up.  “Pretty sure it’ll be our second,” she teased, and Bellamy was still grinning when he kissed her.  Her lips were soft and sweet and he wanted to stay there, kissing her in front of a recreation of a Middle Kingdom tomb, for hours. 

Muffled applause from the other room brought him back to his senses, but even when he broke the kiss he kept his hand on her jaw, his thumb skimming across her cheekbone.  “Deal,” he agreed, and Clarke laughed, pressing her forehead into his shoulder.

Bellamy had always loved the Natural History Museum, but now it might be his favorite place in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Jenny Was A Friend Of Mine, by The Killers.


End file.
